I began with seven tails in a row, walking clockwise around my block. People were ambling through my neighborhood, heading east to the pier or south to the Yo La Tengo concert in Battery Park.

By the World Trade Center site, vendors were selling handbags laid out on tarps (so they could be folded up quickly if a bust was imminent) and school kids were selling M&Ms for sports teams.

On Fulton Street, I heard a guy flirting with a girl, not very successfully: “You gotta tie your shoes.”

“They are tied,” she told him.

I went around and around in circles, seeing the same sun-beaten pavement, then squirted east. Outside the downtown TKTS booth, literally dozens of cops were milling around. Were they waiting for a Broadway-fan riot? Or discount tickets to The Lion King?

On Water Street, I stumbled into a street fair. It was New York’s permanent floating street fair, with all the familiar fried-dough and sausage vendors. I wandered through the crowds, past the Thai food for a dollar, roasted corn on the cob, and Luigi’s Zeppole & Calzone.